


AOE drabbles

by eikuuhyo



Category: Transformers (Bay Movies)
Genre: Angst, M/M, Mpreg, Spanking, Sticky Sexual Interfacing, dubcon, noncon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-19
Updated: 2014-08-02
Packaged: 2018-02-09 12:25:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 4,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1982958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eikuuhyo/pseuds/eikuuhyo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Other TF: Age of Extinction drabbles I wrote of other pairings that isn't Lockdown/Optimus Prime. Drabbles can range anywhere from sfw to explicit ideas.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Drift/Crosshairs, some outdoor smut

 

To be honest, Crosshairs could never stand the ex-Decepticon. Everything from his coolheaded nature to his bizarre mannerisms from the inhabitants of some island country on this dirt ball rubbed him the wrong way. Every other nanoclick was spent bickering with him and physically tackling him, but once in a while—truly once in a blue moon, as these humans would put it—there would be a shift in things. This moment was one of those odd times.

“...Nngh...!”

A heated grunt left Crosshairs’ parted lips as Drift draped over his back. One of the ex-Con’s hand was lightly gripping at Crosshair’s fully erect spike as the other gently covered his partner’s mouth.

“Shh... We can’t have the others hear you, no?”

“Ya goddamn son of a—!”

Crosshairs attempted to bark so under Drift’s hand, but the rest of his cursing disappeared into the back of his throat as Drift began slowly pumping the aching spike again. As much as Crosshairs hated to admit it, Drift was good—a little too good—at interfacing, though he’d never say such things directly to the oddly clad Autobot. Nimble fingers would ghost over the now weeping tip of Crosshairs’ painfully pressurized spike and he could swear that he sensed Drift’s glossa tracing the ridges of his back from time to time whenever he’d tense up. And Primus, that voice... Unlike his usual composure, the things that Drift would whisper into Crosshairs’ audial were utterly filthy and guttural, things that Crosshairs would never even dream of mouthing to another. It was as like liquid desire being poured directly into his processor.

“If only the others could see you like this... So wanton, so needy... And just thinking about that heats you up even more, doesn’t it? I can feel heat emanating from every part of your chassis, and is that lubricant I smell dripping from your valve...?”

“Just shut up and get on with it, ya piece of useless junk!”

“Tsk tsk... You’re always the impatient one, Crosshairs.”

With that, Drift tightens the grip on the throbbing spike, causing pain and pleasure to shoot up the sharpshooter’s back strut. Crosshairs bites down the yelp that almost escaped his vocalizer as he spasms and spills lubricant all over the rocky ground. The thick smell of ozone fills the air as Crosshairs glares back at his smirking partner.

“Bastard... What in Primus’ name was that for!?”

“Well, you wished for me to ‘get on with it’, so I obliged. Now...”

“......!?’

As Crosshairs attempted to cast another retort back at Drift, he feels something scorching hot and thick push against his now dripping interfacing panel. He doesn’t even need to look to know that Drift has released his own spike and was grinding his equipment needily against that last barrier which separated the two bots from connecting. Crosshairs couldn’t stop himself from giving a small whimper at the heat emanating from his partner’s spike as Drift gives another one of his usual calm, collected smiles at him.

“...I believe, it is my turn to continue getting on with it, and enjoy ravishing you.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Optimus/Lockdown: Slightly nsfw, spanking by Optimus. AU if Optimus didn’t offline Lockdown at the end of AOE and kept Lockdown along with his ship to take off into space.

A sharp, piercing sound echoes through the great hall of the mercenary’s ship, followed by what sounds to be a muffled grunt. The sharper sound can be heard periodically; one echoing through the ship, dying down before another and another would ring. If any other had been on that massive ship, they would’ve learned where that sound was emanating from—the control room where its former master laid over the Autobot leader’s thighs.

Optimus kept one servo placed on the mercenary’s back as he traced that black, pert aft with his other servo. With a stoic face he raised that same servo and let it hover in midair for a moment, feeling the mech over his thighs squirm since he knew what was about to come... and then swung down. Hard.

“Agh...!” Lockdown grunted as the large palm and digits landed on that shapely aft.

Infernal rage had been pouring off of the Prime when this session had begun, but as Optimus landed slap after slap, he could sense the hate... the anger starting to subside. There was something about having the mercenary bound and at his mercy that calmed his nerves. Perhaps it was the feeling of the smooth, polished aft that was beginning to heat up from the repeated strikes at his digits and how the mech accepted his fate of defeat...

Either way, a hint of a smile tugged at the sides of Optimus’s mouth, as he caressed that beautiful aft before swinging his palm again at it.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lockdown/Crosshairs: Lockdown being a creeper and ogling his prey

There were times when Lockdown would succeed in locating his targets, yet he wouldn’t act immediately. These were one of those times, as he lurked in the shadows, activating his night vision to just... watch. He had happened to come across one of Optimus Prime’s Autobot teammates—the short tempered sharpshooter that he’d had a number of encounters with—and the sight before him was one to drink in.

Crosshairs—that was his name. The green Autobot was in the midst of taking a bathe in the river, seeming to be washing off dust and grime off of his chassis that had formed over the orns of being on this dirt ball. Unknowing that he was being watched, Crosshairs took his time to clean out the nooks and crannies of his joints and plating, running both servos down his thick thighs to wash off some mud that had caked on them. Lockdown zoomed in a little closer, gazing upon those glorious thighs glistening in the moonlight, occasionally getting a glimpse of what must be the sharp shooter’s interfacing panel. A thought crossed the mercenary’s processor, imagining what he could do to that sleek chassis if he claimed him as his own, rather than offlining him and though the thought was tantalizing, Lockdown cast it aside. He was on a mission to hunt down Optimus Prime to return to their “creators”, and had not time to waste on extra prizes along the way...

But for now, the mercenary would watch and be content.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Optimus/Crosshairs: Optimus and Crosshairs are having a sparring session. Some smut ensues.

“No guns, no weapons. Just fists, and no holdin’ back. Am I right, Prime?” grinned Crosshairs, as he stretched his limbs and lightly struck his fist into the palm of his other servo.

“That is correct. I have sent the others on a recon mission and will not return for the next mega-cycle. This is the opportune moment for a training session.”

Upon flexing his cables, Optimus lowers his stance, legs shoulder width apart and pedes digging into the earth, readying himself for the sharpshooter. Crosshairs can’t contain his glee of being able to fight hands-on-hands with the Autobot leader himself and taps the ground with the tip of his pede to set a rhythm to move to.

Another instant passes, and Crosshairs makes the first move. He kicks the ground to quickly dash towards the Prime and twists his torso to release a swift drop kick aimed at Optimus’ head. Unfortunately for him, Optimus had anticipated that attack and blocks it with crossed arms, using that force to push the sharpshooter away and attempts to strike at Crossshairs... But Crosshairs himself is also a proud member of the remaining Autobots after all.

“Hup...!”

“......!?”

With an agile duck and swoop of his leg, Crosshairs manages to catch one of Optimus’ ankles, making the Prime lose his center of balance. Both mechs collapses onto the ground, but the fall doesn’t deter the two from continuing their match. A lightning quick flash of green lands on the Prime’s cheek plate, causing energon to spatter across the rocky surface, though Crosshairs is given no moment to celebrate as Optimus’ massive fist heavily plummets into the sharpshooter’s abdomen, causing him to sputter out fluids as well.

The duo’s chassis roll across the hard ground, causing dirt to kick up and sully their former-pristine plating. A few more blows are exchanged as Optimus takes the initiative and mounts Crosshairs, both stopping their fists midair.

Each mech glares at the other, still feeding off that instantaneous, yet dangerous sparring. The sound of ragged intakes mixes with the wind blowing across the desert land, and to Optimus and Crosshairs, all that they can focus on the other within their sight. Energon dripping from Optimus’ nasal area drips in small drops onto the sharpshooter’s green chest plating while Crosshairs himself senses energon seeping from his damaged lip plating as well.

But what came next was something the Prime didn’t anticipate.

Something that Optimus can’t read flashes across Crosshairs’ optics before the balled fist opens and the servo grabs hold of the front of the Prime’s chest plate to drag him down, resulting in Optimus collapsing over the other mech and... their lips interlocking. Even Crosshairs himself wasn’t sure why he was doing this, but now that his damaged lip plates were in contact with Prime, he just went with the flow to continue the kiss. The bitter taste of energon spreads from one mech to the other as Crosshairs boldly sneaks his glossa into Optimus’ warm mouth, which resulted in a most wonderful reciprocation that he was not expecting.

A klik then another passes of their heated kissing, when suddenly a fist smashes into the ground right next to Crosshair’s helm.

“Nnh... O-Optimus...?“ mumbles Crosshairs in confusion at the sudden reaction and looks up at the Prime draped over him. Had he misread his leader’s reactions? He was quite certain that it seemed as though Optimus was returning his move...

But what he then sees is Optimus with flushed faceplates and growl-laced heavy breathing escaping through clenched dentae—an obvious display of lust and need. The sharpshooter’s azure optics shutter a few times before the smirk from earlier creeps back on his face plates.

“Well, well... Didn’t think our leader would get off on power play. Looks like I better step up mah game...”

And with that, Crosshairs pushes his metallic coat off his thighs and spreads his legs in the most seductive way, causing the Prime’s cooling fans to roar. He then licks the energon off his lips before releasing the panels over his interfacing equipment. It is an open invitation, a glorious show of desire.

“So... wanna frag?”

Optimus swallows hard, and what ensued from there, only the heavens could tell.

 

 

(Author Note: And then they fragged into oblivion, barely finishing up before Bumblebee, Hound, and Drift came back from the recon mission. Optimus spends the next couple of days facepalming and sitting in the corner of the rocky ravine at losing control over himself and fragging his own teammate. Crosshairs on the other hand is completely sated and grinning like a madman, making Drift very suspicious.)


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Very short drabbles of Optimus/Lockdown and Optimus/Crosshairs/Lockdown: AU where Optimus didn’t offline Lockdown at the end of AOE and took off to find their “creators” on Lockdown’s ship. Each drabble will be based on random words that came to mind and they’ll range anywhere from noncom to fluff. Sometimes Crosshairs will join in on the fun and mpreg involved.

—Splatter—

Optimus always thought that Lockdown had one of the finest afts in the universe... and whenever he would frag the bounty hunter from behind, he loved getting a perfect view of that thick, pert aft. That was why as the Prime was about to complete his overload, he decided to pull out at the last moment to release his transfluid all over Lockdown’s aft. The smooth, black metal covered in his white fluids was sight Optimus could gaze at forever.

 

—Faceplate—

There was something about Lockdown’s emerald faceplate that Optimus enjoyed sullying from time to time. Optimus would run his digits across its smooth surface before giving a satisfied sight as his pent up transfluid splattered all across it. The Prime could see Lockdown glaring through that opaque surface, which made him sense a wonderful chill down his spine.

 

—Cuddle—

The travel across the universe for Optimus to locate their “creators” was long and arduous, filled with much interfacing because the Prime and his paratrooper had such insatiable lusts. This resulted in Lockdown spending most of that time dripping with their transfluids and his interfacing equipment aching from the repeated use. But there were times that both Optimus and Crosshairs would... cuddle, for the lack of a better word, with the mercenary on their shared berth. Cuddling was something Lockdown would never admit in enjoying, but now that his other partners were offlined, comfortably spooning his black chasis, the mercenary silently had to agree that this wasn’t the worst thing that could’ve happened to him as he fell into a warm recharge as well.

 

—Sparked—

The moment that the infamous bounty hunter of the universe had learned that he had been sparked, the most colorful of curses left his mouth as he began assaulting both the Prime and his Autobot sharpshooter. The enraged shouts ranged anywhere from Cybertronian to Earth curses, and as the two Autobots endured the countless weapons thrown at them, they both couldn’t hide their lopsided grins at the idea of a sparkling entering their lives soon.

 

—Naming—

After the complicated birth of Optimus and Crosshairs’ combined sparkling came to an end, the two allowed their utterly exhausted mate to name their sparkling mech... but now that they thought about it, that may have been the worst idea ever. After Lockdown took one look at their massive sparkling—perhaps it was because he had two sires and that one of those was a goddamn Prime—he gave a smirk before muttering a name. “Cannon Fodder. This one’s going to be Cannon Fodder.”

 

—Heat—

Lockdown stalked the great halls of his—used to be his—ship sniffing the air occasionally in search of his two mates. His EM field was flaring wildly and he couldn’t keep his core temperature under control for one easy reason: his heat cycle. Fragging with the Prime and Crosshairs had triggered his dormant heat cycle, which resulted in him requiring his lust to be sated by them every astrosecond, every cycle. At first his mates were glad to oblige, but as the heat cycle began entering a carrying state, even Optimus and Crosshairs could not keep up with Lockdown’s insatiable need. The two would begin hiding from the mercenary, resulting in Lockdown having to hunt them down somewhere on his ship... Eventually, Lockdown stops before one of his weapons rooms and slams open the door, to reveal a cowering ball of a Prime and a paratrooper. “Hide-and-seek’s over, my mates.”

 

—Gag—

Crosshairs couldn’t hide a dark grin as his servos gripped Lockdown’s helm... and forced him to take the entirety of his spike down his throat. He could sense through his throbbing spike that the mercenary was fighting his gag reflex and trying to push away from Crosshairs’ digits, but the sharpshooter was having none of that. There would be no need to move his hips to achieve overload at this rate; Lockdown’s hot mouth and constricting throat was unconsciously working at Crosshairs’ spike, just like the mercenary’s tight valve. The sharpshooter locked eyes with Lockdown’s glare and licked his lip plates before giving into the pleasure and releasing his load right down the mercenary’s throat.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Drift: A short drabble about his past as a Decepticon and his interaction with Lockdown then and now.

Before Drift was who he was now, a valuable member of the Autobots on the planet Earth, he had been someone that he was not proud of; he had been known by the name of Deadlock and was an infamous short-tempered, merciless Decepticon. It was a past that he never spoke about and even Crosshairs dared not taunt Drift about this fact, lest he suffer the wrath of the samurai mech.

Many orns ago, Drift—Deadlock—was on a mission to exterminate an Autobot hideout and there he had met Optimus Prime. He had gone headfirst into that mission, seething with hate since he had firsthand experienced the double-standards of the former leaders of Cybertron... but the Autobot leader had been nothing like what Deadlock had imagined him to be, and by the end of the battle, he had begun to doubt his loyalty to the Decepticons.

It wasn’t easy to let go what he had gone through. The painful days of living in the gutters, being robbed by those he trusted, and believing that no one was to be trusted besides himself. Still, there was something about Optimus Prime that had proven to him that his words were not empty, eventually leading the hardened to Decepticon to have a change of heart. It took another countless orns until the Autobots truly began to place their trust in him, and that was around the time when Optimus Prime himself had gifted him with the name “Drift” so that the mech could be given another chance to live another life.

That was why when the bounty hunter and mercenary Lockdown showed up on Earth, Drift felt as though ice water was poured upon his chassis. Lockdown had worked closely with the Decepticons while they were still on Cybertron, since his cold and vicious nature worked hand in hand with the Decepticon ideals, as well as the fact that the opposing faction had paid more. The mercenary had frequently been on the battlefield as Deadlock had torn apart Autobots with glee and even commented about his marksmanship a number of times, since it would help lead to more kills.

Lockdown knew of his past, and each time the remaining Autobots had close calls with the mercenary on Earth, Drift would sense him gazing towards him as if wishing to comment on the ex-Decepticon’s current state. Each time, Drift would almost lose his composure, wanting to rip that smug grin off of the mercenary’s face—a primal reaction that Drift would’ve taken in his Decepticon days.

Drift felt that one day, he would act upon those urges. An urge that was unlike those of the Autobot code, and it frightened him. It frightened him to the core that he would enjoy every last second of it.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Grimlock/Optimus: Bayverse wild, crazy fragging and sweet cuddles afterwards. This was a prompt sent to me on tumblr, so I added a little more detail to make this into an AU where Optimus spent some more time with the dinobot before heading off into space.

After Optimus had given his words of thanks to Grimlock, the largest of the three dinobots who aided the Autobots in the great battle that took place, the last thing the Prime imagined would happen was this: Grimlock back in his bipedal form, pushing Optimus into the grassy area and towering over him, with his interface equipment exposed. All Optimus could do for the next few kliks was gawk at the fully-pressurized, gargantuan spike hanging between the equally robust thighs.

What happened from then on was nothing but a blur for the Prime. Their interfacing was primal, Grimlock pleasuring Optimus in a way that no other Cybertronian had ever done before. The dinobot’s thick glossa mapped out various places of Optimus’ chassis, firing up pleasure sensors in places that the Prime would’ve never imagined, ranging from his digits to his pedes. Grimlock didn’t stop his ministrations and even laved the entirety of Optimus’ interfacing equipment, from the now-pressurizing spike to the quivering valve. Optimus worried at the beginning that the dinobot would try and ram that mammoth spike into him, but thanks to those actions, by the time Grimlock rolled on his back and positioned Optimus on top of him, spike ready to penetrate the Prime’s valve, Optimus was limp from pleasure, lubricant dripping from his aching valve.

Once that massive cord managed to fully sink into Optimus, their interface literally shook the valley. Grimlock kept both servos on Optimus’ hips as the Prime was forced to ride the spike, each roll of the dinobot’s hips causing the earth to tremble. Optimus’ cries matched those powerful thrusts as his abashed moans transformed into screams of Cybertronian curses and begs for Grimlock to continue the pleasurable act.

At one point or another, the rest of the Autobot team had peaked into valley pocket from hearing their leader’s screams, but left instantaneously—with a snicker and a flushed faceplate—when they witnessed what Optimus and the dinobot were getting on.

Eventually though, their fragging ended with a powerful overload, Grimlock’s roar echoing for miles as he pinned Optimus under him, pouring what seemed like gallons upon gallons into the Prime’s fully stuffed valve. Unlike the primal interfacing that took place until then, Grimlock eased Optimus off of his spent spike and took on a position that could be referred to as “spooning”, in the human sense. The dinobot continued to purr in the back of his throat as he cuddled and coddled the utterly spent Prime, which made the exhausted Optimus smile.

The Autobot leader still couldn’t shake the worry he felt about these “creators” that were out to get him, but for now, he allowed himself to relax into Grimlock’s embrace and offlined his optics into a most comfortable recharge.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hound/Optimus: More like Hound & Optimus than a pairing. Sad Prime. Spoiler of AOE pertaining to a certain character.

As another night passed on the run from the humans, Optimus took a moment away from his men to ponder on everything that had happened over the recent human years. Their human allies of the Yeager family had already gone to sleep for the night, and with Bumblebee standing guard, the Prime was free to gaze up upon the starry night outside the abandoned building.

Beyond the countless stars somewhere was their home planet of Cybertron, most likely half-destroyed from the events that took place in Chicago a few years ago. Even considering what had happened to their planet, Optimus wondered if the lost sparks of the countless Autobots and Decepticons returned to the Well of the Allspark there.

“Wonderin’ where Cybertron could be, Prime…?”

Optimus maintains his optics on the starry heavens as the familiar voice echoes from behind. A large frame slowly enters the Prime’s peripheral vision along with some heavy footsteps. Seeing that Optimus doesn’t answer his question, Hound decides to take a seat next to his standing leader, taking a good draw from the cygar between this dentae.

It had only been a few hours ago that the remaining Autobots here on Earth learned of the fate that had befallen some of their other comrades that they had become separated from, including the Wrecker Leadfoot and most of all… the Autobot medic and Optimus’ oldest friend, Ratchet. Being offlined in battle was one thing; being slayed and then melted down for metal was a completely different story. Hound couldn’t even begin to fathom the emotions that must’ve been boiling within the Prime as he witnessed the mutilation of those closest to him.

“…I begin to wonder how much longer this shall continue on for, Hound.”

The words eventually whispered by Optimus were so faint that it almost went unheard by Hound’s audials.

“Ironhide, Swideswipe, Jolt, Dino, Que, Roadbuster… So many Autobot lives lost over the past stellar cycles… And it has now even claimed my oldest friend… How many more lives must we sacrifice…? When will we be able to live in peace once again…?”

A slight quiver began to be heard in the Prime’s voice, and Hound could no longer stand by to just listen to those pain laced words. The Autobot commando put a servo on the Prime’s shoulder and gripped it hard.

“Optimus, you’re our leader. The last Prime of Cybertron. I may not know you as long as Ratchet may have… but I can at least lend a shoulder if you need it. That’s the least I can do for ya…”

Those words are what make Optimus turn towards Hound, and those cerulean optics shutter a number of times before one, then two droplets of lubricant begin falling from them.

“Forgive me, Hound… I do not know what has come upon me…” mutters the Prime as lubricant continues to pour down from the pained optics. All Hound can do is continue lightly patting Optimus’ back, as he also looks up at the heavens and sighs. Wherever their creator may be in the universe, why was it that they had to force such an agonizing fate upon one Cybertronian? Why were they taking so many of those close to him back to the Well since the moment of his creation?

Though he knew that such questions would never be answered, Hound continued to provide as much comfort as he could to their Prime, knowing that once the sun rises again, he would no longer be able to show such a weakness… That he would have to continue being “Optimus Prime” and lead the other Autobots.


End file.
